Tuesday, March 10, 2009

I was invited to a week-long, most-expenses paid trip to Las Vegas recently.

It's not really my scene, but I considered it. I do love wandering the casinos, looking at the interior decoration, do love the night photography possibilities there.

I asked the man who invited me how many people he had attending. He listed off a few of his friends, bringing the total body count to around six to eight people.

I declined, citing my anti-social tendencies to not be around that many people for that length of time. The idea of doing so was, frankly, discomfiting.

But as I turned his offer down, I realized it was not my anti-social nature that made me reject his offer, but the knowledge that, during this trip, I would have to engage with people, attempt to be social, attempt to act normal, to fight my habits of initiating intense conversations of introspective ideas and social analysis.

I did not want to drive out to a desert to find myself, again, on the outskirts of a social group that I have next to nothing in common with. And since I don't drink, don't smoke, don't gamble, I have no "bonding" activies I can engage in with them to cover up the gaps.

One person, I can handle. One person I can work with.

A group of them... no. I don't want to take vacation time so I can go out to the desert and not relax all week.